Eighteen Days
by haleycl
Summary: Based off the spoilers going around about season five. Kensi misses Deeks. Oneshot


Based on the spoilers that Kensi and Deeks' partnership will be split up mid season, and what I think should happen during that time.

Disclaimer: If I owned it, they wouldn't be split up in the first place! Plus, I'd be a lot better off than I am, and my student loans would be paid off. See, don't own it.

It's been eighteen days. Eighteen days since she stood next to him while he busted down a door. Eighteen days since she had to put up with him changing the radio station every thirty seconds. Eighteen days since she's had her partner by her side.

Eighteen days ago, Hetty walked into the bullpen and told Deeks that he was wanted for an LAPD undercover assignment. He joked about the demand for him being up, and went to OPS to get briefed. Twenty minutes later, Kensi went upstairs. And there he was, standing around the table, as if he were waiting for her, which in hindsight, he probably was.

"It's going to be fine. I go undercover for a few weeks, I come back and we pick up right where we left off. Your sloppy kisses and all." At the last part that infuriatingly adorable smirk found its way onto his scruffy face.

She just rolled her eyes at him. "Maybe by then we'll have improved communication skills."

He nods, and looks like he's debating pulling her in for a hug or not. She looks at him, and tells him that if he hugs her, she's not sure that she'll be able to let go. It's the most honest, raw thing she's said to him since they were hiding out in her mother's garage, eons ago.

And that was eighteen days ago. But she's just heard that he's done with that assignment, and that he's back in his bed, safe and sound. He texted her to tell her so. For a long time she goes back and forth on whether or not to get a few beers and just show up on his doorstep. She debates so long that it's nearly 11pm when she decides that she wants to see him, that she needs to see him. And of course, all his lights are off. He's sleeping, she deduces. But the longing won't go away. Eighteen days of not seeing his scruffy face, and floppy, messy hair, of smelling salt water and sunscreen, and sweat, and just _Deeks_ drives her to his front door.

The door is locked, but her handy lock picking kit makes quick work out of the simple pin and tumbler design. She enters through the front door, where Monty glances at her briefly before laying his head back on his paws. She flushes at the thought that he's just that used to her presence. She tip toes through his hallway, passed an open closet door, passed the bathroom, and into his bedroom. She quietly opens his dresser, takes out an old, worn LAPD shirt, and changes right there at the foot of the bed. She takes it as a testament to how trying the case must have been that he doesn't even stir.

Dressed in his tshirt and her panties, she takes the edge of his comforter in her fingers and pulls back, the thought of finally being next to him, and the thought of a full night of sleep almost making her giddy. She slides in next to him, and tears almost immediately prick her eyes. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed him until she was laying next to him, surrounded by his scent, observing the way his hair was strewn all over his forehead.

His eyelids flutter, and just like that she's staring into his big blues, while tears gather in her mismatched brown orbs.

"Hey" his whispered voice is gruff with sleep, but there has never been a sweeter sound in all her world.

And that sound alone breaks her, and has her burying her head into his collarbone, letting tears slip from the corners of her eyes, down the bridge of her nose, and onto his skin.

He makes a contented noise in the back of his throat, and she shakes with laughter.

"Hmm, what? Laughing, crying, pick one, Sybil." And then his eyes are sliding shut, and she's positively clinging to him.

"I really, really missed you. I didn't even realize it until I got here. Please tell me you're back now?" Her voice has a whimpering lilt to it that she doesn't bother to be ashamed about. They were on the edge of something after that kiss. Even after they went through everything after his torturing, they were ready. They were spending time together, honest time, and communication was being broken down, as much as either of them dared to break it down.

And then he was taken from her, again, and she found that she didn't know what to do when he wasn't next to her. Not at work, of course. She had been doing the job long before he came a long. It was the silences at night, the absence of movie night, and adventurous dinners at new restaurants that made it that much more obvious to her. She had gotten used to having him by her side, at work and at play. That thought scared her, but after the recent months, the thought that he would walk away if she couldn't get her communication act together scared her more.

"Yeah Kens, I'm back. Let's sleep, and we'll talk tomorrow, ok?" She nodded against his skin. The next breath she took was deep, and shuddering, and then she sunk into him, and into the relief that he wasn't walking away, that he was right here, alive and breathing, and holding her to him, his pale skin hot against the frigid iciness of hers. She kisses a place right above his pectoral muscles and his arms tighten around her before his deep breaths fill her ears.

And in the next second she's drifting, finally peacefully drifting.


End file.
